


The Kids Are All Right

by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Mortal, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Interracial Relationship, POV Nile Freeman, Pining, i don't know how this got so long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme
Summary: Art teacher Nile is the last to learn what the entire school has apparently known for years: one of her coworkers is hopelessly in love with her.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman
Comments: 51
Kudos: 205
Collections: Book of Nile Collection!





	The Kids Are All Right

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to put this as a prompt on the kinkmeme, but then I thought to myself: write the absurdly self-indulgent fic you want to see in the world. So, here it is. I hope you enjoy. :)

There were some days Nile loved being a high school teacher. Watching her students grow from disinterested doodlers to thoughtful _artists_ never ceased to amaze her, and even if she grew to hate other parts of the job, she had faith that that annual transformation would carry her through years to come. As she stood in the hall outside her classroom and admired the display of her students’ most recent batch of self-portraits, she couldn’t help but bask in the pride for a moment. Not every student progressed as much as she’d like, but in every class, there were always those who tried their best, and they made all the difference.

Nile was nearing the end of her third year of teaching now, and already she was looking forward to this time next year, and being able to watch students she’d seen come in as awkward freshmen leave the building for the last time as self-assured seniors. Even this year’s batch of seniors were making her a little emotional. She could still remember what some of them had looked like at fifteen, the year she started teaching. Now many of them were legal adults, just a couple months away from heading off into the real world. It was hard to believe. Especially at times like this, when Nile’s rare moments of peace at the end of the day were interrupted by teenage girls’ theatrics.

“Oh my God, _tell_ me about it!” A girl’s indignant shriek carried easily from the next hallway over. “I was talking to him about my essay after third period this morning and she walked by and he _completely_ stopped listening to me. I swear, it’s like a switch flipped and I wasn’t even _there_. I nearly had to snap my fingers to get his attention. Like, _hello_? Please get over your little unrequited love story and tell me why you gave me a C, you asshole.”

Another girl snorted. “Hey, you think if she sleeps with him, he’ll go easy on the grading? Maybe we should set them up.”

“Fat chance. When has le Livre ever gone easy on anybody? Getting laid will probably just make him even worse.”

Nile rolled her eyes as she shouldered her bag and locked up her classroom door. She had no patience for teenagers’ gossip, especially not when it was about her fellow teachers. She had half a mind to tell them off on her way out, but then, just as she was tucking away her key, she heard something that made her stop in her tracks.

“Seriously, though,” the second girl was saying. “It’s almost the end of the year. You think Ms. Freeman’s going to put him out of his misery before graduation or what?”

Nile froze, her mind doing acrobatics as she struggled to understand what she was hearing. Why was she being brought into this conversation? And what the hell were they even talking about?

“Doubt it,” the first girl replied. Nile could hear the sound of a backpack being zipped up somewhere down the hall. “I bet we’ll come back for our five-year reunion and he’ll still be mooning after her, too shy to say a word. I mean, it’s been three whole years since she started, right? If she hasn’t noticed he’s in love with her by now, she’s never gonna notice.”

Nile stood still, her heart thudding hard in her chest. She recognized the voices now—Karina Belov and Natalie Wasserman. They were seniors and both taking one of her beginner pottery class as an elective. They put forth a good enough effort, but they were forever talking and giggling throughout her class. Now Nile realized what had been entertaining them all year.

“Don’t know why she doesn’t give him a chance,” Natalie was saying, her voice louder now as the girls moved down the empty hallways. “He’s gorgeous. If I were her, I’d sleep with him just on looks alone. It’s not like they have to get married or anything.”

Nile could hear the girls’ footsteps coming closer, and she knew she had to move, but she was in the middle of the hallway at the edge of the building—there was nowhere to run for cover. They’d see her the second they turned the corner for the exit. Brain buzzing, she did the only thing she could think of and scrambled for her keys. She slipped back inside her room and crouched down to the floor, eyes closed, like some kind of perverse mockery of a safety drill. She could hear the girls’ voices getting louder as they neared, and she pressed her ear against the crack in the door to hear.

“Hey,” Natalie said, coming to a stop just on the other side, “maybe we should leave her a note. You know, give her a hint.”

“And say what? _Dear Ms. Freeman, Mr. le Livre wants to jump your bones. Please give him a chance so he’ll stop making us read sad poetry in class and giving us Fs all the time. It’s getting very depressing, and threatening our college prospects. Love, the entire student body._ ”

Natalie cackled. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks if you write that out and slide it under her door right now. I swear to God, Karina.”

“Oh, please. Where are _you_ gonna get a hundred dollars?”

The girls continued to bicker, but their voices slowly moved away. In minutes, Nile couldn’t hear them at all. But neither could she manage to get to her feet. She sat crouched on the floor, her back to the door, at a loss as to how to process everything she’d just heard. _Gossip,_ she thought to herself, gripping the doorknob hard in an effort to wrench herself back up to her feet. _Just stupid, meaningless, ridiculous teenage gossip._ Kids these days just watched too many TV dramas and they were forever looking for ways to make their dull lives in the Tacoma suburbs more interesting. She had nothing to be embarrassed about or scared of.

So why was her heart pounding as she opened the door? Why was she peeking around the frame to make sure the coast was clear before stepping out?

The halls were deserted, but as she re-locked her classroom door and made a beeline for the parking lot, Nile couldn’t help but feel like those girls were following her. She could hear their mocking voices, so eager to inflict shame and judgment, echoing on the inside of her skull.

She hurried to her car, nearly running through the pouring rain but grateful for the excuse to duck for cover. There were still a few teachers’ cars in the parking lot, and the last thing she wanted to do right now was be stopped for an end-of-the-week venting session.

She tossed her purse into the passenger seat and started up the car, reaching for the volume to turn the radio all the way up before she realized it wasn’t going to help. Nothing was going to drown out or distract her from what those girls had said. She switched the radio off, and cut the engine too.

She sat there and stared out at the rain and told herself those girls had no idea what they were talking about. They were _eighteen_ , for Christ’s sake; they hardly knew how to drive. They didn’t understand adult relationships. They didn’t understand _relationships,_ period.

But they did, she had to admit, understand how to read people.

And who better to spot unrequited love than a hyperaware teenage girl?

No. _No_ , she was being stupid. Those _girls_ were stupid.

Sébastien le Livre was not _in love_ with her. That was absurd. They worked together and they were on friendly terms and sometimes they had lunch together and that was it. Besides, Nile was ninety percent sure he had a thing going on with the French teacher, Madame Mallin. The two of them were forever jabbering away in French and making eyes at each other whenever they were in the teacher’s lounge, and Nile _swore_ she saw them leaving together just last month.

Maybe that was it, she realized, closing her eyes briefly in relief as she turned her key in the ignition. Yes, that was it. The two of them _had_ _been_ together, but they just broke up, and that was why the kids thought he looked so lovelorn. Simple. Easy. Mystery solved.

By the time she reversed out of her parking spot, though, Nile wasn’t so sure anymore.

Because she _had_ walked by his classroom this morning, on her way to the front office. And it _had_ been just after third period. Nile chewed on the inside of her cheek as she flipped on the windshield wipers, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead of her instead of the linoleum tiles she’d walked across this morning. The rain was picking up, and she welcomed the excuse to shut the wandering part of her brain off in favor of survival. Even after three years in the Pacific Northwest, she wasn’t totally at ease driving in downpour conditions.

She had hoped that by the time she made it home, she would have forgotten about the girls’ gossip, but it crept back up to drag her down, catching her unaware as gossip always did. She left her wet shoes at the door of her apartment, and headed back into the bedroom to swap out her rain-soaked clothes for dry pajamas.

All the while, those girls’ voices were sounding off in her mind.

_If she hasn’t noticed he’s in love with her by now, she’s never gonna notice._

Was it at all possible that they could be correct?

As far as Nile could remember, Sébastien had never paid her any type of romantic attention. He’d never asked her out, or hit on her, or done anything more than be mildly friendly to her whenever they happened to cross paths in the halls. Which, Nile was suddenly realizing, happened a lot more often than it should.

Her classroom was in the so-called New Wing, an addition that had been constructed five years ago to offer expanded space for science labs and art studio classrooms. It was set apart from the main building like a lonely outstretched arm, and there was no reason to walk down its single hallway unless you had class in that area. And Sébastien did not. All of the English classrooms were in one hallway in the center of the building. There was no reason for him to wander all the way over to the New Wing unless he needed a bunsen burner or a pottery wheel.

Unless he wanted to see her.

He’d stopped by just this past week. Nile had thought nothing of it at the time (she was now beginning to think she was _entirely_ without common sense), but now she sought out the memory. She’d been hanging up her students’ self-portraits in the little display case outside her classroom when he’d wandered by. She had asked what he was doing in her neck of the woods and he had said something vague about wanting to make sure his boys were applying themselves.

The first time he’d mentioned his boys to her, Nile had taken it literally. And every time he brought a new one up in conversation during her first year of teaching, she’d pictured another teenager with his same sandy brown hair, his eyes, his easy fluency with French. She searched for them in her classes, and in the halls, but despite how numerous they apparently were, she never spotted even one. It wasn’t until she asked him point-blank why he sent his kids to another school that she discovered his boys were not really _his_ boys.

To his credit, he didn’t laugh at her. He just stared a little too long and then said, _I don’t have any children. I just coach the soccer team._ Her face went so red that she felt it burning for the rest of the day, and she struggled to look him in the eye for the next week and a half.

In the years since, it had become something of an inside joke between them, which she appreciated. When he’d walked by earlier in the week, he’d asked after Simon Lee, peddling some lie about how his mother was concerned her son wasn’t getting a well-rounded enough education. And for a good ten minutes or so, they pretended to worry over the artistic prowess of his star goalkeeper, a boy who had more full-ride scholarship offers than he knew what to do with. It had been the bright spot in an otherwise exhausting day.

Nile shut her eyes, flopping down onto her bed. How had she not seen through that? Through _everything?_ They’d spent nearly a quarter of an hour discussing the merits of a sixteen-year-old’s artwork, for Christ’s sake. How had she been that _blind_?

Well, she knew how. She’d gone seven months thinking he had somehow fathered a dozen kids, so she supposed it stood to reason she could go three years without noticing he was head over heels for her.

With a groan, Nile shoved a pillow over her head. She was an idiot, that much was clear. But at least it was Friday. She wouldn’t have to see him until Monday at the earliest, and in the meantime she had the entire weekend free to sort out what she was going to do next.

But instead of spending the following two days devising a game plan, she spent most of the weekend panicking. What was she supposed to say to him when she saw him on Monday? _Hey, I heard a couple of teenage girls talking about how you’re in love with me, is it true?_ No. Absolutely not.

She knew what her friends would say if she asked them for advice: _Just talk to him!_ It’s exactly the response she would have if faced with the same situation. And it _was_ the answer; she knew that. Didn’t mean she wanted to do it. They were barely a month and a half away from graduation—why couldn’t this have waited just a few weeks more? Then it’d be summer and she wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him every day.

She could finish it right now. She had access to his phone number; it was in the school directory. She could just call him up and get the answer, no delay or awkward face-to-face confrontation required. But instead she waited. She waited and waited and suddenly it was seven-thirty AM on Monday and she was walking into the teacher’s lounge and there he was.

He was standing at the far end of the room, his back to her as he poured a cup of coffee. He hadn’t seen her yet. She could still run out the door and hide in her classroom on the other end of the building like a child.

But instead she found her voice and called out a hello, and when he turned around with a smile, she smiled back. He was wearing a maroon button-down and dark pants and she realized with a jolt that it was the same outfit he’d been wearing the first time they’d met.

She had met so many people on her first day teaching, students and faculty alike, and yet out of all the new faces, his was the one she remembered best. Because he was handsome, yes. Because the kids clearly seemed to like him. But also because when they happened to pass in the halls halfway through her first day, he went out of his way to spare a moment of encouragement. Without pausing, without prompting, he’d walked by her with a smile and a whisper only she could hear.

_You’re doing great._

He was gone before she could respond, but the words had echoed in her head all day. They’d gotten her through some of the rougher moments that first day and in all the days since. She’d never forgotten that brief kindness.

Come to think of it, she’d never thanked him for it, either.

She thought about mentioning it now, but other teachers were starting to trickle in, and it was easier to just hang up her raincoat and make small talk with her other coworkers as if today was a normal day. She managed a good fifteen minutes of that, interrupted only by her near-constant glances his way, before the warning bell rang and she headed out the door. When she looked back, he was watching her leave.

The rest of the day passed at an interminably slow pace. Nile tried to focus as best she could for her students, but her mind was forever wandering down the halls, wondering about him and his day. Was this what his life had been like for the last three years? Just constantly being distracted by someone only a few hundred yards away?

No. It wasn’t like that for him. He was a professional adult; he wouldn’t let something as stupid as a silly little crush distract him from his actual job.

But what was it Karina had said on Friday?

 _She walked by and he_ completely _stopped listening to me._

Nile had thought that was an exaggeration, but then in fifth period, she was so busy worrying over the Sébastien question that Miles Henry had to physically knock on the wood of her desk to get her attention. So clearly, teenagers did not speak exclusively in hyperbole. Nile spent the rest of the school day paying intensely close attention to her students to make up for the slip, and it was only when the final bell rang that she felt like she could breathe again.

She took her time locking up her classroom and returning to the teacher’s lounge for her things, but even as she meant to dawdle, she found herself hurrying. She wanted an excuse to run into him and no one else, and she found it.

He was sitting alone at the long table in the lounge, reading through essays, when she slowed in the doorway. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and she hung back for a minute, watching as he took a red pen to what seemed to be every single sentence on one student’s essay. When he reached the end, he flipped it over and scribbled a grade at the top. Nile wasn’t close enough to see exactly what it was, but she heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like _Imbécile,_ and she figured she could guess.

“Giving everyone Fs again, are you?” she called as she stepped into the room.

His head shot up, startled by her presence.

“Who told you I was handing out Fs?"

“Oh, you know.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she came towards him. “Heard it on the street.”

He laughed, and she bit her lip so she wouldn’t grin too wide. He was so quiet most days that making him laugh always felt like a personal triumph, no matter the context.

“Seniors,” he muttered darkly, hoisting the inch-thick stack of papers with one indignant hand and then letting it drop back to the table with a _thud_. “They think that just because they’ve been accepted to college they don’t have to try anymore.”

“What, you never got senioritis?” She took the seat across from him and stole the top essay off the stack.

“Read that and try to tell me it’s just senioritis.” Nile skimmed the first couple sentences and winced, passing it back with a grim _No thanks._ “Yeah, exactly,” he replied, dropping it back on the stack. “It’s like they’re reverting to middle school. I’ve got freshman writing better papers, and they barely know the basic rules of grammar.”

“At least they’re still turning in work; they’re trying.”

He tilted his head. “ _Are_ they, though?”

Nile stifled a laugh into her hand, looking away.

When she turned back, he was no longer actively grading papers and all the annoyance was gone from his face. He was looking at her and he was smiling in that small, understated way that she used to think meant he was merely humoring her, but now she thought seemed far too fond for two people who were just coworkers.

All at once, Nile was very aware of just how alone they were. The school was empty of students, and the door to the lounge was closed. It was just the two of them. She could ask him now, make up for her earlier stalling, and save herself another night of worry. But what would she do with his answer? If he said _Yes, it’s true,_ what was she going to say? She didn’t know what she wanted from him, or if she even wanted anything at all.

She liked things the way they were. She liked these little moments they had during the day, and sure, sometimes—on occasion—she thought of him after the day was over. Whenever she read a good book—or a terrible book—she wondered if he’d read it too, and what he thought of it. Sometimes when she took day trips up to Seattle, she passed French-speaking tourists in the street and she thought of him first before she ever thought of Madame Mallin. And other times, his face appeared in her mind’s eye for no reason at all, and—

“I should go,” Nile said abruptly, already on her feet while he was still in the process of looking up. She hurried around the room, grabbing her lunch things and her coat and her bag, knowing he was watching her with confusion but unable to make herself explain. They exchanged quick goodbyes, and then she was on the other side of the door, trying to ignore the urge to run as she headed out to her car.

There was something about being around teenagers every day for nine months out of the year that had somehow turned her into one. Starved for drama and exhilarated by the slightest hint of scandal. It was all just so—juvenile. So stupid. She was no more in love with him than he was in love with her. It was ridiculous.

Every day for the rest of the week, Nile told herself that she’d talk to him and be done with it. Maybe he wanted her and maybe he didn’t, but the important thing was to approach the subject head-on. Be adults about it. Every day she told herself she’d find the courage, and every day she failed.

Three weeks passed like that, and suddenly it was the middle of May. The rain had let up some, the flowers were in bloom, and Nile was sick of having her class interrupted so one student could ask another to prom in the most obnoxious way possible.

It had been simpler when she was a kid. You just sidled up awkwardly next to whoever you wanted to go with, mumbled out a few words, and that was that. And there was never any asking for couples who were already together. It was just a given that you were going together. Now it was a drama-fueled production for everyone involved, regardless of relationship status.

And, unfortunately, the drama leading up to prom didn’t stop at the student body.

Principal Hannah Hopewell found her halfway through last period the Friday before, breathless as she poked her head around the door.

“Can I speak to you for a minute, Ms. Freeman?”

Even her students were too shocked at the principal’s presence to break out the stereotypical chorus of _Ooooh!_ Hopewell rarely left her office, choosing to deploy her vice principal Maria Ernwright out into the halls in her stead. You only ever saw Hopewell if you were in big, big trouble. The students all stared in silence as Nile made her way across the classroom and out into the hallway. She could feel her heartbeat picking up, unable to shake the feeling that she was in trouble too. Was she getting fired? Surely Hopewell wouldn’t show up at her classroom to tell her she was let go.

Right?

“I have bad news,” Hannah said the moment Nile shut the door behind them, and Nile felt her pulse skyrocket. They’d cut the art budget. She was out of a job. Or maybe it was worse—was there something wrong with her mother? Her brother? Before she could ask, the principal continued, “Maria and Eric are calling it quits.”

“What?” Nile asked, dumbfounded. She’d been so focused on herself, she hadn’t for a second stopped to think the phrase _bad news_ could possibly concern anyone else. Maria was Hannah’s right hand and Eric taught physics; the two of them had been staples of the faculty for decades. “Wait, what do you mean they’re calling it quits? Why?”

“Tale as old as time,” Hannah replied grimly, folding her arms. “Eric’s been, well…” She waved a vague hand, and Nile took the hint with a nod. “Maria was in my office in tears at six this morning, so safe to say I’ll be a bit more hands-on as we near the end of the year, trying to lighten her load.”

“Right,” Nile nodded, taking in this information even as she tried to figure out how it applied to her personally. It was sad that her coworkers were getting divorced, but she’d never spent much time with them outside of work hours. Or even inside work hours, really. Why she should be notified in the middle of class on a Friday…

“They were both signed up to volunteer this weekend,” Hannah continued, as if reading her mind. “Given what’s happened, they can’t possibly be in the same room together. Especially not at an event like this. So I really need to fill those spots.”

It took Nile a second to register what was being asked of her.

“Wait, you want _me_ to chaperone? At prom?”

“The kids like you. They respect you.”

 _They don’t_ , Nile thought, but she wasn’t about to tell her boss that.

“You’d be doing me a _huge_ favor,” Hannah added earnestly, and those seven words sealed the deal. Even as she agreed, Nile wondered if there was any way to parley this so-called favor into a raise down the line. “Perfect, Nile, thank you! Now I just need one more… Any suggestions? I know people are feverishly making Saturday plans to get out of dance duty.”

Nile didn’t know what made her say it. Maybe it was because she’d spent the last month thinking almost exclusively about him. Maybe she’d gotten so desperate for a confrontation that her subconscious was ready to manufacture one. Too soon, the words were out and she had no way to take them back.

“Have you asked Sébastien?”

“No…” Hannah frowned, making it clear she hadn’t even considered him an option. “Why? You think he’d do it?”

“I don't know.” She should have left it at that, but for some reason her mouth had a mind of its own today, for she added, “I can ask him, if you want.”

“Oh, _Nile_.” Hannah’s face lit up. “See! This is why I hired you. Always helping. Always going that extra mile. Lifesaver, you are.” For a second Nile thought the woman was going to hug her, but she merely pumped her fist in the air triumphantly. “Lifesaver!” she sang as she hurried down the hall to put out her next fire, and Nile actually laughed.

It was only when she turned back to her classroom that she realized the ramifications of what she’d agreed to do.

“Shit,” she muttered, and then she reached for the doorknob. No better way to distract oneself than with work.

In the end, the asking was not as hard as she expected. By the time she made it through the tide of rushing students and over to his classroom, Sébastien had already left for the day, but she got his number out of the directory in the teacher’s lounge on her way out. She spent the drive home practicing line after line, but when she pulled into her parking spot and cut the engine, she dialed without having chosen one.

He picked up on the sixth ring. Just long enough for her to think he’d never answer and then panic when he finally did.

“Hi, it’s Nile Freeman,” she said when the line connected. Feeling awkward, she added quickly, “From school.”

“Hi, Nile Freeman from school.”

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered, and then instantly regretted being rude, but thankfully he laughed.

“Have you ever had to qualify your name before?” he wondered. “You’re the only Nile I’ve ever met. Or even heard of.”

“I’m the only Nile I’ve ever heard of too,” she admitted. “But I felt weird calling you out of the blue like this.”

“It is a little weird.” He paused. “Is there any particular reason you’re calling?”

“Yes,” she rushed to say, remembering her agenda. “Hannah came by my classroom this afternoon. Apparently Eric and Maria are getting divorced—”

“Yeah.” She heard him sigh heavily on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“Right,” Nile said slowly, wincing. She was only just realizing that this might hit him far more personally than her. She’d only known those two for three years; Sébastien had worked at the school for nearly a decade.

“Well, um, turns out they were both signed up to chaperone tomorrow night. But given… what happened, nobody really thinks it’s a good idea for them to be in the same room together.”

“Understandable.”

“So Hannah asked me to volunteer to take one of their spots and I said yes, and um…”

Nile didn’t know why her stomach was doing that queasy little flip-flop. She wasn’t asking him out. She was asking him to _chaperone_. With five other people. If anything, she was just asking him for a favor. Coworkers did each other favors all the time, completely platonically.

“I said I’d see if you could come with me,” she forced out. “Since we need one more.”

There was a long moment of silence where she thought she was going to die of embarrassment waiting to hear his answer.

“Are you asking me to prom?” he wondered finally.

Nile shut her eyes, feeling intensely fourteen for the flush that spread across her face.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” She pressed her lips together, but was too anxious to wait for an answer. “So how about it? You’re not going to stand me up in front of the whole school, are you?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

She covered her mouth with a fist as if he were there to see the smile that spread across her face. _Don’t be a child._ She forced herself to move to logistics, trying to remember what Hannah had told her.

“Okay, great. Um, just so you know, prom’s being held at the Black Bear Country Club. You know, off route—”

“I know where it is. It’s at the same place every year.”

“Right.” _Duh._ “Well, we’re supposed to get there at seven-thirty tomorrow night.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven-thirty tomorrow night.”

“Perfect,” she sighed, not even able to hide the relief. She could hear Hannah yelling _Lifesaver!_ in her ear. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

They started to say their goodbyes, but Nile interrupted his.

“Wait, Sébastien.”

“Yeah?”

She chewed her lip, suddenly fearful that she was crossing some kind of line. She never had gotten around to asking him if what those girls had said weeks ago was true. If it was—if he was as hopelessly in love with her as they’d said—was it really okay for her to foist favors on him like this?

 _It’s just a dance!_ her rational mind screamed. _You’re not tricking him into sleeping with you. You’re asking him to chaperone teenagers. You’re asking him to do his_ job _._

“I just wanted to say thanks again,” she said. “I’m sure you’ve more than paid your dues with these kinds of things. You really didn’t have to say yes, but I do appreciate it. And I’m sorry to ruin your Saturday night.”

“Didn’t have any special plans,” he replied easily, but she got the feeling that he would’ve said that no matter what. She decided to let it slide, and this time when he said goodbye, she didn’t try to keep him on the line.

She spent the next twenty-four hours cycling through every single outfit in her wardrobe. She tried on every dress upwards of three times, every top-and-skirt combo twice, and even pulled out an old pantsuit, wondering if maybe that was the most appropriate. She was not, after all, actually going to a dance. It wasn’t a date. She and five other teachers were there to make sure nobody was drinking or doing drugs or committing sexual assault. It was serious, it was basically another day of work, and yet all she could focus on was whether he’d prefer her in blue or green.

After much deliberation, she went with the blue. It was a simple navy dress, with a high collar and a hemline that went nearly to her knees. A good mix of modest and slightly formal. She wore black flats and spent far too long in front of the mirror, arranging and rearranging her braids through various complicated hairstyles until finally she gave up, and let her hair fall to her shoulders.

“Stop trying so hard,” she muttered at her reflection.

In the end, she tied back her many braids into one long, thick braid, and let that be that. It was simple, but it looked nice. And then, because she was too anxious to loiter around her apartment any longer, she made the drive out to the country club. She arrived fifteen minutes early, but at least Hannah and one of the other teacher-chaperones had beaten her there. Nile was relieved to see they were wearing dresses similar to her own—not too fancy, not too informal.

She helped with some of the setting up, until finally the others arrived, and Hannah pulled them all together to give a rundown for the evening. Nile did her best to listen, but it was a little difficult given that Sébastien was standing not five feet away from her, looking far too good to be chaperoning rowdy teenagers. He was wearing a dark suit and tie and he had his hair styled nicely and all at once she found herself wondering what he would do if she walked over and kissed him.

At one point he caught her staring, mouthed _Hi_ , and she was so flustered she nearly dropped her phone. She didn’t make eye contact with him for the rest of Hannah’s briefing, and when they were dismissed, Nile waited to see where he went first so she could go in the opposite direction.

On the whole, the first few hours went smoothly. Nile did periodic checks of the girls’ bathrooms, as well as various closets and unlighted exterior areas of the main building. She walked in on five couples making out on their way to doing more, two girls smoking weed in the bushes, and four boys doing their best to act like they hadn’t arrived completely hammered.

She confiscated the joint, told the handsy couples to cool it and get back to the dance, and let Hannah deal with the drunks. It was arelatively calm evening, all in all—or it should have been. Whenever she wasn’t on her own rounds, Nile was far too aware of where Sébastien was. She couldn’t stop noticing him whenever one of them walked into a room, and more than once, she’d caught his eye across the crowd and felt her stomach roil with nerves.

No matter how many times she told herself there was nothing to be anxious about, it didn’t seem to help. Whenever he left a room she was in, she felt like she was being abandoned for some shortcoming, and whenever he stayed, she felt suffocated by his presence. Whenever they passed within so much as ten feet of one another, she fantasized about grabbing his hand, pulling him into some dark corner, and pulling his mouth down to hers. The pounding music and screaming teenagers only served to accelerate the deterioration of her sanity.

At around eleven-thirty, she took a break and stepped out the front entrance and into the warm spring evening. She had flats on—she had expected, for some reason, that a lot of running would be involved tonight—and she took them off as she stepped out into the grass. It was country-club perfect: soft and springy and masterfully trimmed. She wandered around the grounds, letting the thump of the bass drone on behind her as she moved from streetlamp to streetlamp, treading on the grass beside the golf-cart paths.

It wasn’t until she spotted someone sitting on a bench that she realized she’d circled nearly the whole building and ended up at on the opposite end of the building from the ballroom. In the lamplight, she could make out Sébastien’s profile, and she froze in place.

His back was to her, and he didn’t seem to have heard her walking around. He was staring out into the night, apparently at nothing in particular, because when she tried to follow his gaze, there was only darkness. She wondered which of them was stranger: her, creeping around in her bare feet, or him, sitting alone on a bench in the dark. Then he lifted something to his mouth and she realized he wasn’t strange at all. He was _smart_ , and she was painfully, horribly sober.

“Hey,” she called, stepping out of the darkness. “Didn’t you hear, there is absolutely _no_ _drinking_ at prom!”

He jumped at the sound of her voice, whirling around on the bench as he clutched the flask to his chest, and she laughed, holding up her hands as she stepped into the light of the streetlamp.

“I won’t rat you out to Hannah if you give me a sip.”

“Oh, then by all means.” He held out the flask to her. “Last thing I want is to incur that woman’s wrath.”

Nile grinned, taking the flask as she came around the side of the bench. It was one of those metal ones whose slatted seats were freezing in winter and searing in summer but tonight, it felt just fine. She tipped the flask back, letting the alcohol spread across her tongue and burn down her throat.

When she came up, she was grateful but grimacing. “What is this, bourbon?”

“Whiskey.”

“Ah.” She passed it back with a smile. “I’ll pretend to know the difference.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his own. Out of the corner of her eye, she stole a glance at him. He was more disheveled now than he’d been at the start of the evening, and somehow it only made him more attractive. His tie was looser than it had been before, his shirt had lost some of its stiffness, and his too-long hair had tired of its styling and was starting to fall into his eyes. Nile felt a primeval stab of jealousy—it wasn’t _fair_. How did men always get away with making rumpled look sexy?

She did not think that.

She did _not_ think that.

Nile cleared her throat, long and loud, and put up a bright smile when he looked curiously in her direction. “So,” she began, hoping to silence the screaming in her mind, “how’s your night been so far?”

“Oh, you know. Same as my days. Yelling at teenagers.”

“Yelling? Really? That sounds much more exciting than what I’ve been doing. Best I got was Katie Greelin and Marissa Benner-Lowell smoking a joint out back. I felt bad taking it from them.”

He laughed, taking another pull before passing the flask her way. Nile took it with a close-lipped smile, loving the casual way he just handed it back over, as if they’d done this a hundred times before.

“Mine wasn’t really that exciting, though Derek Holberk and Peter Tram were doing their damnedest to build up the drama. I guess there’s some love triangle going on between those two and Renee Mathison? And Shauna Olster is also involved somehow?” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me to explain, because I don’t care. I was just there to stop the punches.”

Nile snorted, bent over the flask. She could sense him laughing too, his shoulders shaking just a foot from hers.

It was strange how easy things could be between them when they hit the right notes. She watched his face as she handed the flask back, and when he looked over, he was smiling like he felt it too. For a couple minutes, they passed the whiskey back and forth in silence, but all too soon, it was gone. Nile watched him tuck the flask back into the breast pocket of his jacket with a surge of disappointment, waiting for him to stand up and head back in.

But he didn’t.

Instead he stayed and they sat there, side by side, staring out into the night. Nile thought of all the anxiety that had plagued her over the last few weeks, and though she knew it was waiting out there in the wings, she felt calm for the first time in a long while. There was something about the way she felt when the two of them were alone. She wasn’t sure how to explain it, but it was like there was less pressure when it was just them. No one watching over their shoulders, no one listening in, no one wondering what they were doing together. She usually let these moments pass placidly by, and she was tempted to do the same as ever tonight. But she knew that if she didn’t take advantage of this calm, that old fear would haunt her forever. It was now or never if she wanted answers.

“Can I ruin the moment?” she asked quietly.

“Um.” He chuckled once, awkward. “Sure, I guess?”

“Sorry,” she said, shooting an apologetic glance his way. “I know that was a bad segue. It’s just that I’ve been trying to talk to you about something for a long time now, but I haven’t known where to start. So if it’s all right with you, I’m just going to say it.”

She drew in a shallow breath and turned fully to face him. He was staring right at her, just the way she knew he would be. Because why would he look away at a moment like this, and make things easier for her? For just a second, she let herself be distracted by how handsome he looked, sitting there waiting to hear what she had to say. She hoped she wouldn’t ruin everything with one question.

“Do you have a crush on me?” she whispered.

It was kinder than _Are you in love with me?_ and more innocent than _Do you want me?_ It was, Nile thought, a perfectly fair question for one adult to ask another.

But Sébastien stared at her as if she’d just punched him in the face. Stunned, and a little betrayed. It made Nile want to reach for his hand, offer some kind of comfort, but she knew that would only make things worse. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard before he spoke.

“Why would you ask me that?”

His voice was a whisper, and Nile had trouble raising hers to counter it. Her demand came out sounding more like a plea.

“Can you please just answer the question?”

She watched as his gaze flitted about her face, from her eyes to her chin and all around. She was about to tell him to stop stalling, _for once_ , when he spoke.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do.”

Nile felt something like an explosion go off somewhere between her heart and her stomach. It was one thing to suspect—one thing to hear kids’ gossip—and another thing to _know,_ right from the source.

She opened her mouth to speak, but as hard as she tried, she found she had nothing with which to fill the silence. He watched her flounder for a moment before turning back to face the night. Behind them, the bass beat thumped low and deep, and Nile tried to focus on the sounds of the seniors’ distant scream-singing to drown out the panicked thud of her heart.

She waited for him to get up and leave but he did no such thing. He just sat there and stared and she tried to understand how a man could be both so shy and so brave.

Or maybe he wasn’t brave. Maybe he just liked torture, because that’s what it felt like, sitting there in the silence. She wished they hadn’t drunk all his whiskey already. She wished she’d brought her own.

“What makes you ask?” Sébastien wondered softly. “Did I… Have I done something to make you uncomfortable?”

“What?” Nile started at the question, too lost in thought. “Did you—no! No, God, you’re fine. You’ve _been_ fine. You’ve never—” She tried to stop herself mid-sentence, but he was staring at her, waiting, and she felt she had to continue. “You’ve never done a single thing that’s ever made me think you were interested in me like that.”

He blew out heavy sigh, hunching over until his elbows rested on his knees. She winced as he put his head in his hands, screwing up her face only because she knew he couldn’t see. _Could you be any more of a bitch?_ a voice screamed in her head.

“Then how did you know?” he asked after moment. He lifted his head to study her face. “If you never suspected that I… What made you even ask in the first place?”

“Oh. Um…” Nile hesitated, suddenly very much wishing she hadn’t opened this particular can of worms. For a split-second she thought of getting up and running away herself, but she knew he deserved to hear the truth as much as she had. So she gave it to him. “I overheard some girls gossiping about you the other day.” She grimaced as she said it, embarrassed at herself, but he hardly seemed to notice.

“Me?” A furrow appeared on his forehead as his eyebrows pinched together. “Which girls? What did they say?”

_They said you’ve been pining after me for three years. They said you can’t work when I’m around. They said you’d be too shy to ever admit it, and that I was too oblivious to even notice you were trying._

“They said you liked me,” Nile replied. If this thing between them went anywhere, she could save the rest of the truth for later. But if it died here and now, she didn’t want to humiliate him any further. “They said you’d liked me for a while now and that everyone knew except… except me.”

He sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Have I ever told you how much I hate teenagers?”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but you’re in the wrong line of work.” She tried for a smile. “And it’s not their fault, really.”

She paused, trying to ignore the feeling of her heart beating quick in her chest. She knew they were nearing the moment where she would have to make a decision and voice it aloud. She felt like a teenager herself all of a sudden. Why was it always so difficult to tell someone you liked them? Why didn’t it get easier with age? Nile folded her hands together, squeezing her fingers tight until they ached.

“And, um, I should actually thank those girls,” she said, staring down at her interlocking knuckles. “It’s because of them that I’ve been… noticing you more, these last couple weeks. Noticing the time we spend together, and how it makes me feel. And I’ve come to realize a couple things.”

She could _feel_ him staring at her. With whatever strength she had left, she made herself look up and meet his gaze. He’d managed to look her in the face when he’d admitted it; she owed him that same courtesy as well.

“I like you too,” she said quietly. “I really do, and I think part of me always did, before I ever overheard those girls talking. I guess I just needed someone to tell me the option was there for me to really see it for what it was.”

“And the second thing?”

Nile blinked, momentarily stymied by the question. Hadn’t she just told him everything he’d needed to hear? “What?”

“You said you realized a couple things. What’s the second thing?”

“Oh.” Nile felt her face heat. She tried to think up a quick lie, but nothing came, so she just steeled herself and said the truth. “The second thing is that I’d really like to kiss you. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

Well, more than all night, if she was being honest, but judging by the satisfied look breaking out across his face, she didn’t need to flatter him any further.

“You want to kiss me?”

That grin on his face. He was practically _goading_ her. Where had this confidence been for the last three years?

“Are you actually trying to make fun of me for this?” she shot back.

“No, never.”He shook his head, but he was still grinning.

“You’re lying to me.”

“Only barely. Can I be forgiven?”

“Depends.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked. “On what?”

She smiled, but resisted the urge to lean forward and make the first move. She’d made all the moves so far. If he really wanted this as much as those girls said he did, then he’d have to work for it.

She watched his face as the same realization hit him. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes, and even as Nile wished she could read his mind, she didn’t have to. It was all there, written in plain English. All the hopes and fears tied together, leaning on each other for support. When his tongue flicked out to wet his upper lip, Nile felt something in her stomach clench hot and fast. She wanted to yell at him to get it over with already, but at the same time, she relished the anticipation. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this worked up over a first kiss.

But she knew whatever she was feeling now must pale in comparison to what he must be feeling. She could almost see him playing out the old fantasies behind his eyes as he searched for the perfect angle at which to make them reality. She wondered how he’d first imagined this happening. At work, perhaps? In the teacher’s lounge or the parking lot. Maybe after a faculty meeting or a parent-teacher night. Nile smiled at the thought of them stealing kisses against the lockers in the halls like teenagers. It almost made her wish they were back at school, and lost in those might-have-beens, she nearly missed the moment he moved forward.

His beard scratched her skin as their mouths finally met and as a soft noise escaped from somewhere in the back of her throat, Nile hoped to heaven Sébastien couldn’t hear it. His hand rose to her cheek, and she leaned immediately into his touch, his warmth, cupping her own hand around the curve of his shoulder. She wanted to crawl right into his lap, but she forced herself to stay where she was. They were still at a school event. And this was only a first kiss.

Their lips parted for a moment, and they hovered there, eyes opening to the new reality. Neither of them said anything for a second. His hand was still on her face, hers on his arm. She thought maybe they were supposed to let go now but she couldn’t bring herself to do it first.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispered.

She smiled, pleased and embarrassed all at once as she glanced down. “Hope I lived up to expectations,” she whispered back.

“You’ve exceeded every one. You always do.”

Her eyes found his, and she saw the truth there, the emotion he couldn’t bring himself to hide. It made her throat stick.

“You’re sweet,” she whispered finally. She lifted her free hand to his face, and traced the edge of his beard from his cheek down to his lips. “Why’d you stop kissing me?” she wondered. “Don’t tell me you’ve had enough already?”

“Oh, it’s going to take a very long time for me to have had enough of you.”

She grinned, and leaned in again. The kiss wasn’t so tentative this time, and Nile liked the way he shifted more fully to face her. She did the same, and though their knees knocked awkwardly, it didn’t stop them. Her hand was on his neck and his was on her knee and at the first brush of his tongue against her lips, she opened her mouth and—

There was a shriek of laughter somewhere behind them and they both jumped, heads whipping towards the sound. For a wild second, Nile thought someone had spotted them, but no, it was just the students pouring out of the main entrance on the north side of the building. Nile could see the shine of headlights from here. But the relief morphed quickly into fear when Nile realized that if the kids were leaving in droves, that meant it was after midnight. They’d been away from the dance for at least half an hour.

“Oh, shit,” Nile hissed, scrambling to put on her shoes. “Hannah’s going to kill us.”

“Yeah, she is. Come on.”

Sébastien was holding out his hand and she took it, not ashamed to be caught grinning now. They sprinted to the side entrance, but before Nile could reach for the door, Sébastien tugged her to the side. She came up short, almost falling into him as he stepped up close.

“Just—once more,” he whispered by way of explanation, and then his mouth was on hers again, harder than before, and Nile couldn’t help the small moan that escaped.

Her hands rose immediately to his chest, one tugging on his collar while the other slid around the back of his neck and into his hair. He had such nice hair. It was feathery-soft between her fingertips, and she just barely resisted the urge to run her hands all through it. She focused on kissing him instead, on the slick feel of his tongue in her mouth, and she tried very hard not to think about it on other parts of her body. She could feel his hands on either side of her waist, gripping her tight like he was worried where they might wander if he let go for even a second. The thought made her smile.

“You don’t have to be such a gentleman,” she teased between kisses. “You can touch me."

And then, just in case he didn’t get the hint, she pressed herself close against him, liking the way her breasts flattened against his broad chest. Apparently he liked it too, because suddenly one of his hands was on her ass, hauling her even closer, and she laughed into his mouth, both surprised and elated that the limits of his shyness were wide-ranging but apparently so very shallow. Nile could’ve stood there all night kissing him, testing the edges of his boundaries, but she knew sooner rather than later, Hannah would come after them.

Nile didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to have to do it, but she knew one of them had to. Gently, she laid her hands against his chest and pressed until they separated.

“We have to go inside,” she whispered. She was a little short of breath, and she could feel in the rapid way his chest moved under her palms that he was too.

“Mm.” He brushed his nose against hers, and it was fortunate he was holding her up, because Nile just about melted into him. “Can’t we hide out here for the rest of the night? I really like it here.”

Nile grinned, rocking on her heels to be closer to him even as she knew she was supposed to be stepping away. Every part of her wanted to give in and stay here with him until dawn. But she knew that particular dream was impossible.

“We have to go.”

She tugged on the neck of his tie a few times, until finally he gave in and stepped back with a sigh.

But when he tried the door, it was locked.

“Damn it,” Nile muttered, remembering too late that all the doors except the front entrance locked immediately once they were closed. When she turned around, the grimace on Sébastien’s face mirrored her own. They couldn’t walk around to the front entrance together. Not now, not while the entire senior class was out there, high already on their own drama and no doubt on the hunt for more.

“Ladies first?” he offered, standing back and gesturing towards the path that led to the front parking lot.

Nile didn’t mock his chivalry this time. No matter what Hannah’s rant contained, she’d rather face it now than have to loiter here in the darkness for another quarter of an hour and face a fiercer version later. She stepped past him, sparing a grateful smile, and then, on second thought, she did a full turnaround.

“I meant to say this earlier—you look great tonight. I love the suit.”

“Thanks.”

He smiled, and there was a split-second where she was supposed to turn and leave and he was supposed to let her. But she didn’t turn, and instead of staying silent, he spoke.

“I wore it for you.”

Nile pressed her lips together, feeling that now-familiar rush of warmth spread through her body, only this time it curdled a little with guilt. She wondered how many little things like that he’d done for her over the years that she’d never taken care to notice. Well, she could start trying to remedy it now.

She cleared her throat softly. “Sébastien?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I took so long to realize how you felt.”

He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should’ve just said something. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Nile bit her lip so she wouldn’t try to take on any more of the blame, or interrogate him further. She got the feeling that they could easily stand here for days arguing over who was most responsible. Better to just leave it be for now. So, with one last smile and a promise that she’d see him on Monday, she made for the front entrance.

Hannah, of course, spotted her immediately. Through the crowd of hundreds of kids milling about and cars lining up, she made a beeline to Nile’s side as she turned the corner. Nile braced herself for the inquisition, but it seemed that all Hannah wanted to do was complain to her about various students’ misdemeanors. Nile nodded along, barely bothering to pay attention as Hannah moved from one delinquent to another. Nile was still thinking about that little alcove, and Sébastien’s tongue in her mouth and his hand sliding down her backside and—

“—haven’t seen Sébastien anywhere, have you?” Hannah was asking, and Nile jumped at the sound of his name. “I hoped he’d at least give me a warning before he cut out early…”

“Oh, I think he was just making a last check of the grounds,” Nile lied quickly, hoping her face didn’t look overly happy at just the mere mention of him. “I saw him when I came around from the side.”

“Oh, good.” Hannah was back to surveying the parking lot, watching as the last few stragglers were piling into cars. “I need him and Alan to help me move the furniture before the cleaners come in tomorrow morning.”

“I can help,” Nile offered, her generous side running away with her as usual.

Hannah, thankfully, waved her off. “You go on home, Nile. You’ve done more than enough for one night. Don’t think I’ll forget.”

Knowing she should take an out when offered, Nile went inside for her purse and coat before her do-gooder upbringing could get her into any more tight spots. She said goodnight to Hannah when she came back out, and she made it to her car just as she heard Hannah call out to Sébastien in very poorly accented French. Nile stifled a laugh, glancing over her shoulder just in time to meet Sébastien’s eyes as he dutifully followed Hannah inside.

He saluted her with one hand, and she grinned, touching her temple to mimic the gesture. She stood and watched him disappear inside before unlocking her car and climbing in. She drove home slowly, not trusting her reflexes at high speeds when her mind was so scattered. She thought by the time she got into bed that she’d be awake all night, but it didn’t take long for her to slip into an easy, deep sleep.

She woke late the next morning, pleased to have the whole Sunday, free of plans, stretching out ahead of her. She was even more pleased when she reached for her cell and saw a message waiting for her.

_I know it’s bad form to text so soon, but I want you to know what a good time I had last night._

Nile smiled at the screen, burrowing deeper under the blankets as she thought out a reply. She tested out a handful of options in her head before writing back.

_I had a good time too. I’m happy we finally got things out in the open._

_All thanks to you._

Nile stared at the message for a few seconds, just smiling at it, and then finally made herself set the phone aside and go shower. She spent the day doing chores around the house, scrolling mindlessly through Netflix, opening and closing various books she was supposed to be reading, and debating whether she was allowed to text him again when they’d see each other at 7 AM the next morning.

Texting him again so soon was, she finally decided, not a good look. So instead she started and drafted half a dozen texts to her friends about what had happened the evening before, but no matter how she phrased it, she always ended up deleting every word. It felt too important to say over text. And besides, she kind of liked keeping it to herself for the moment. It felt fun and secret and exciting. She stared up at the ceiling from her place on the couch and she wondered what he was up to at this very moment. What did Sébastien le Livre do on Sundays? Probably something interesting and sophisticated and French.

Daydreaming took her all the way to dinner, after which she realized she’d neglected grading all weekend in favor of obsessing over him. She put her cell on airplane mode—that way she wouldn’t have the temptation to check every five seconds to see if he’d texted—and worked until half past eleven. She dropped into bed, too exhausted and too worried there’d be nothing new on her cell to bother reconnecting to the internet.

When the alarm woke her at 6 AM the next morning, it felt like her first day of teaching all over again. She couldn’t find a way to calm her stomach or her mind. She was anxious she’d have another text from Sébastien—and anxious she wouldn’t—and so she didn’t look at her phone until after she’d eaten breakfast and agonized over the perfect outfit.

For a moment, there was nothing waiting for her on her cell. She tried to tell herself that’s what she’d expected. What reason could he have to text her when they’d see each other in an hour’s time?

There was nothing on her cell—until suddenly there was _everything_.

Hundreds of texts poured in all at once, and dozens upon dozens of missed calls, quickly followed by a notification that her voicemail inbox was full and she needed to clear it out.

“What the hell?” Nile breathed, clutching her phone with both hands as it flooded with messages.

Her first thought was that her mother or brother had somehow died in the night. But even that wouldn’t explain the absurd amount of messages she had—the numbers were still climbing—and through the deluge, she saw messages from both of them pop up briefly before they were buried beneath others. So it wasn’t about them. But what else could it be about? The number of unread emails was growing too. Nile was just thinking she’d turn airplane mode back on so she could try to sort through all the messages she already had when suddenly her cell went off in her hands and she jumped, dropping it in surprise.

When she picked it up, she saw it was Sébastien. She didn’t think before pressing accept.

“Oh, thank God you answered.”

“What?” Nile frowned. “Why wouldn’t I answer?”

It was silent on the other end of the phone. Nile felt an odd drop in her stomach that she couldn’t quite explain.

“Sébastien? What’s going on? Why didn’t you think I’d answer?”

There was a long moment where he refused to speak.

And then, very quietly, he said, “So I’m guessing you haven’t seen it yet?”

“Seen what?” Nile tucked her cell between her ear and shoulder as she grabbed her work bag and starting piling in her grade book and other essentials. She didn’t usually bring her personal laptop to school, but if she had this many messages, she knew she’d need to sort through them during downtime at work and she could do that less conspicuously on her computer than her cell. She crossed the room to retrieve it from her desk, she asked, “Look, do you mind if we talk at school? I’m sorry, but I have about a million texts and calls waiting—”

“Yeah, I was worried I might not be able to get through. I tried leaving a message earlier, but your inbox was full.”

_What?_

“Why were you trying to call me earlier? What’s going on?”

She heard him mutter a few phrases in French that she couldn’t translate beyond the pronouns. She stayed on the line and waited him out until finally he returned to English.

“Nile, um… There’s a video of us out there.”

“What kind of video?” Nile asked as she shoved her laptop into her bag. “Don’t tell me Hannah’s diversity editing me into one of those stupid promotional—”

“Nile. There’s a video of us from Saturday night. Kissing.”

“Oh.” She stopped moving. That wasn’t what she’d expected. And it also didn’t make any sense. “Wait, what do you mean there’s a video? How? I mean, who would—”

“I guess some of the kids were watching when we…” He trailed off with a tired sigh. “Anyway, it kind of… went viral.”

Nile felt her whole body go cold. “What do you mean it went viral?”

“Nile, it’s stupid, okay, it’s just some of the kids being idiots—”

“How many people watched it?”

“Nile, look—”

“How many people shared it?”

“Nile…”

“I need a _number_ , Sébastien! Is it a thousand? Ten thousand? _A hundred thousand?”_ Her voice had risen to a shout while she paced around her little room, but he still hadn’t said anything. Surely this couldn’t be some kind of lost-in-translation moment. Not now, when it mattered most. Not when his English was so flawless that he _taught_ English. “Sébastien, are you listening to me? You’re supposed to tell me to stop when I say the number!”

“I can’t tell you to stop because you’re not even close.”

“How am I not—what—why are _hundreds of thousands_ of people watching us _kiss_?!” she screeched. “Why do they care?”

“It’s millions by now, actually,” he corrected.

 _“What?”_ she shrieked.

“And it’s not, um, that they’re watching us kiss, so much as the… the commentary. I guess people think it’s funny.”

“What do you mean _the commentary?”_

“It’s… You kind of have to watch it to understand.” When she didn’t say anything, he added, “I can send you the link if you want. So you don’t have to go… searching for it.”

Nile shut her eyes, thinking of everyone who had called her and texted her and emailed in the last twenty-four hours. No, she couldn’t imagine this video would be difficult to locate.

Sébastien was still talking, stumbling through some kind of apology, but she wasn’t paying attention. All she could hear was her own voice, echoing in her memories: _You don’t have to be such a gentleman._ All she could remember was his hand on her ass, and the way she’d pressed herself shamelessly against him.

Had everyone she knew really seen that? Her brother? Her _mother_?

“…call me back after you watch it, okay?” Sébastien was saying. “Take however long you want. I’ll be by the phone all day.”

“All day?” That brought her back to reality. “No, Sebastien, I have to get to work. And so do you!”

“Oh, I’m not going to work. I called out hours ago.”

That stopped Nile in her tracks.

“What?” she breathed.

“Yeah, Nile, there is absolutely no way I’m going in to face this. Not today.”

“Fuck.”

She sank down onto her bed.

“It’s really that bad?” she whispered.

“It’s… pretty fucking humiliating,” he admitted. “But more for me than for you; they’re at least complimentary about you.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Nile muttered.

On the other side of the line, Sébastien sighed. Nile sat and waited for him to say something reassuring, but either they were on completely different pages, or there was no silver lining to be found. Still, she couldn’t make herself hang up. She knew if she did, she’d have to watch that video. And then, god forbid, she’d either have to call Hannah or go in to work. Somehow those options sounded equally horrific.

“If you don’t want to watch it,” Sébastien began gently, breaking through the silence, “I can try to summarize—”

“I don’t need you to summarize it for me,” Nile interrupted. “I was there, remember?”

“I definitely remember you being there, yeah.”

She could tell from his voice that he was trying to smile, and for some reason that made her smile too. But it didn’t last long before the panic took over again.

At least she managed some semblance of a goodbye before she hung up on him. Nile sat with her phone pressed into the bedspread, hiding its screen even as she heard it _ding! ding! ding!_ with notification after notification.

It took her a few tries to watch the video. She kept turning her phone off, tossing it away, and then picking it back up again. Texts kept coming in and interrupting the feed. Eventually she set her phone aside, pulled her laptop out of her bag, and brought up the video. She stopped and started it about eight times before forcing herself to start over properly. She told herself she had to sit and watch it through just once so she wouldn’t be blindsided by anything anyone might mention about it to her later.

She took a deep breath and then hit play.

“—don’t know why you’re filming this,” a boy’s voice was saying offscreen as the video started. “It’s gonna be just like last time. Nothing’s going to happen. Le Livre’s just gonna pussy out again.”

“You don’t know that,” a girl replied. She sounded close, like she was the one filming. “He could’ve grown a spine in the last ten minutes.”

On screen, Nile could see herself and Sébastien annoyingly clearly. They were sitting on that bench beside one of the asphalt paths, backlit by a nearby streetlamp. They weren’t kissing yet; they were still just talking. From this distance, it was impossible to hear what they were saying or read their lips. Nile tried to be thankful for that.

“Twenty bucks says he goes for it,” one of the kids was saying.

“Fifty says she shuts him down,” a different boy replied.

“Oh, _no_ , I hope not,” a second girl whined. “They’d be so _cute_ if she’d just give him a chance.”

How many people were watching them? Nile tried to count the voices, but it was impossible to tell how many kids were really behind that damn camera. She wanted names and faces, people she could kick out of her classes or send to Hannah’s office, but with all of them hiding off-camera and their voices so low, it was impossible for her to tell exactly who any of them were.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” a boy asked. “Think he’s asking her out?”

“I think he’s bitching about the fact that they have to babysit us all night like a couple of prison guards. You think they get overtime for this? I hope they get overtime for this.”

Though she squinted at the screen, Nile could’t quite discern where the kids were filming from. It had to be somewhere within the country club—Nile could see reflections moving in the window as the phone was pressed up against it—but it seemed like some kind of unused back room or hallway. There was barely any background noise, and the low thump of music from the ballroom sounded oddly far away. As the kids kept up a running commentary of speculation, Nile felt the pit in her stomach grow wider. If she and Sébastien had been doing their jobs, those kids never would’ve snuck away to wherever they were filming from. If they’d done their _jobs_ , there wouldn’t be a video in the first place.

“ _Why_ are we still watching this?” a boy groaned. “I _told you_ nothing was going to happen. Le Livre has had three years to find some balls and it hasn’t happened. Tonight’s not going to change that. So can we _please_ go back to the dance? It’s going to be over soon and I— _Oh, shit!”_

His curse was lost in what sounded like a dozen squeals and shouts, all quickly stifled. The camera shook in the hands of whoever was holding it before finding its equilibrium. On screen, Nile watched as Sébastien kissed her. In her memory, that first kiss had gone on for hours, but in reality and on screen it didn’t last more than a couple seconds before they pulled apart. From this distance, their expressions couldn’t be seen, but Nile remembered smiling. She remembered Sébastien smiling back at her.

And now it was all being crowded out by a gang of teenagers chanting _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God_ and whisper-shrieking their approval and brazenly speculating about how quickly the two of them were going to get naked. Even just watching the video, alone in her apartment with the sound down low, Nile was starting to blush.

“Wait, wait, wait,” one of the girls whispered frantically when they broke apart. “What are they saying? Don’t tell me she’s not into it… Oh, God, she can’t leave him sitting on that bench alone it’ll be _so_ depressing.”

“Moment of truth,” one of the boys hissed. “C’mon Coach, c’mon Coach, you got this…”

As Nile watched herself from two days ago lean forward for another kiss, the kids behind the screen erupted in gasps and muffled shouts.

“Fuck yes, Coach!”

 _“Shh!”_ one of the girls chastised. “They’ll hear you!”

“Oh, they are not hearing _anything_ right now, I’ll tell you that for a _fact_.”

“Did you see that? She _so_ went for it! She likes him too! Oh, this is _so_ cute; I could _die_.”

“Damn. Not to be disrespectful or anything, but Ms. Freeman can fucking get it.”

“Oh my god.” A boy off-screen laughed. “Deanna, are you _crying_?”

“Shut up!” a snapped back hoarsely. “I’ve just always thought they’d be good together, okay! Ms. Freeman is _so_ nice, and she looked _so_ pretty tonight, and I’ve _always_ thought they—”

The girl broke off suddenly as, on screen, Nile and Sébastien jumped apart, their heads both turning towards the noise at the front entrance. As she watched, Nile felt her heart begin to hammer even harder in her chest. She touched the trackpad of her laptop, checking, praying, hoping—but no, the video wasn’t about to end. The video went on for at least three more minutes. If they filmed that kiss by the side entrance…

“Go, go, go, go, they’re moving!” one of the girls cried, and then the camera was shaking and all that could be heard where the sounds of running feet muffled by carpet and pantings breaths. It was impossible to tell how many kids were moving or where they were going, and then all at once they skidded to a stop, shushing each other.

The camera leveled out again and—Nile had to close her eyes, because she couldn’t watch this part. She scrambled to turn the volume down as low as it would go without being muted. Somehow it was still far too loud, cutting right through her.

_“Whoa!”_

“Oh, _shit_. Did you see that thing he did with his tongue? I take back everything I said. Coach has moves! Coach has fucking _moves_! Yes!”

“Wait, are they gonna do it right there? Did you see the way he grabbed her ass?”

“God damn that French bastard. Knew he had it in him.”

“Double or nothing—hundred bucks says she goes down on him.”

“Dude, don’t be sexist! Hundred bucks says _he_ goes down on _her_.”

“Oh, shit—duck, quick, they’re coming inside—”

“Wait. Is it locked?”

“Do… Do you think we should let them in?” a girl asked tentatively, and what sounded like a dozen people furiously hissed back, _“No!”_

It was far too quiet then, and Nile chanced things by opening her eyes and turning up the volume a few notches. It was easier now that she knew the kissing was over. On screen, she watched herself and Sébastien say goodbye from what looked like half a darkened hallway away. The angle was wonky, like the kids were leaning around a corner. Which, Nile realized, they probably were.

“Oh, look at their faces! They’re so _smiley!”_ a girl gushed. “This is making my year. Look at how he’s watching her leave!”

“If they end up getting married, I am totally crashing that wedding.”

“Ooh, think about the _babies_ ,” another girl cooed excitedly. “If they get married, they’ll make such pretty _babies_.”

“Who cares about babies, think about our _grades_!” a boy cried. “They better be so busy fucking that he just gives us As for the rest of the year. We deserve it. I am so sick of that class and his insane expectations. This better mellow him out.”

“It’s your fault for taking it in the first place. Why you signed up for _four_ AP classes senior year, I will never understand. Especially when—”

“Hey!” Suddenly Alan Frankel’s gruff voice was cutting through the chatter, and immediately the phone was tucked behind someone’s back as the students greeted the history teacher. “What the heck are you all doing back here? Prom’s over. Whatever this little afterparty is that you’re having back here? Over. Time to go home. Get out front.”

There were mumbles of acknowledgment and some muffled footsteps, and then the video finally, blessedly, stopped.

Nile shut the computer, collapsed back onto her mattress, and then sat there staring at the ceiling until her alarm went off again. It was the official warning that she should be out the door if she wanted to get to work on time. Nile scrambled for her cell and searched through her contacts until she found the direct line to her boss’s office.

Hannah, wonderful woman that she was, answered on the first ring. And she didn’t even make Nile say it.

“Nile, hi. I’m going to assume you’re feeling under the weather this morning? You catch that spring sickness that’s been going around?”

Nile shut her eyes in relief. She’d always known she could rely on Hannah in a tight spot, but knowing it and having it actually happen when she needed it most were two very different things.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Nile replied. Her voice was shakier than she’d like. “Not feeling great over here. I should be back tomorrow.”

“Fine with me,” Hannah replied breezily, and she sounded as professionally uninterested as she always did the few other times Nile had called out sick. “I’ll find you a sub for today.”

Nile couldn’t hide her gratitude beneath a veneer of professionalism so easily. It all but came bursting out of her as she replied with far too much feeling: “Thank you, Hannah. Thank you so much.”

“No problem at all. And—just to keep you abreast of things—you should know that I’ll be speaking to the student body later today.”

Nile swallowed, so very grateful Sébastien had called her before she’d driven to work. She couldn’t imagine having to be present while her boss lectured the entire school about that damn video.

“Okay,” Nile managed to say. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re welcome,” Hannah replied. Her voice was very soft, almost motherly, when she added, “Take it easy, Nile, okay? Year’s almost over. And everyone will forget about this soon enough. You know as well as I do that someone else’s drama is always around the corner.”

“Sure,” Nile whispered, hoping Hannah couldn’t hear how tight her voice sounded. She suddenly felt like she was going to burst into tears, and she said goodbye as quickly as she could.

Her head ached and her eyes burned and even though she _wanted_ them to, the tears didn’t come. She just felt sick and awful and she had no idea how she was going to avoid spending the entirety of today panicking about tomorrow. Already her apartment felt too small. She wanted to be outside—outside, out of state, out of the country. She wanted to run away and she felt _stupid_ for wanting to run, because in the grand scheme of things, nothing bad had really happened to her. So some kids had seen her kiss someone and they’d filmed it. And put it on the internet. And millions of people had watched it.

 _Millions_.

She felt like she was going to throw up.

But by the time she made it to the bathroom, the feeling had passed, and all that was left was a low-level nausea and a throbbing headache. She laid her head against the floor tile, hoping the cold of it might do something to soothe her.

And then she remembered Sébastien.

“I watched it,” she said the moment he answered. No _hello,_ no _How are you?_ They didn’t need pleasantries anymore. “I watched it and I told Hannah I’m not coming in and I just feel like…” From her spot on the floor, Nile looked at the walls stretching up around her, so close and narrow and bare. “I feel trapped here, but I don’t know where to go. Everyone I’ve ever met has been calling and texting and emailing and I just—want to disappear.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I’ve been looking at flights to France since three AM?”

“Wait.” Nile sat up slowly, a new kind of fear racing through her veins. The only thing worse than facing this nightmare would be facing it alone. “You’re leaving?”

“Not really,” he answered, though even he didn’t sound totally convinced about it. “But you know how it is. You get scared, you want to run home.” He laughed softly at himself. “Or at least I do. It won’t be any different there, I know. Everyone back home has seen it. The only reason I saw the video in the first place is because an old college professor emailed asking if it was me. No one else had to ask; they all knew immediately. And—ah, right on schedule. My sisters are taking turns calling me every hour, demanding an explanation.”

His voice having calmed the worst of her panic, Nile leaned back against the wall. “You have sisters?” she wondered, curious. She had never pictured him with siblings. Then again, they’d never talked about their families before.

“Three. Sabine, Mireille, and Alair. The first is in Paris, the second in Nice, the third is still in Marseille, where we grew up. And as usual, they are all ganging up on me in my time of need.”

“Three sisters,” Nile repeated, cataloguing the information. She liked the idea of him with sisters. “Older or younger?"

“Sabine is older, the other two are younger.” He paused. “And you have a brother, right?”

Nile smiled at the thought of him listening and remembering. “Yes, younger. He’s somewhere in Germany as far as I know. Marines,” she added by way of explanation. Sébastien made a soft sound of acknowledgment, and then silence fell again. For a moment, it was almost peaceful.

And then Nile remembered that goddamn video.

“Look,” she said, sighing sharply. “I don’t know what to do about this whole mess, but… This is nice, talking with you. I’m not sure if you already made plans for your day off—”

“You mean besides reading every single negative comment someone posts on that video and internalizing _all_ of them until I have no sense of self anymore?”

“Wow,” Nile teased, “we have so much in common! I was going to do the same exact thing, can you believe it?”

He laughed on the other end of the line, and she drew her knees to her chest, smiling as she rested her chin on them.

“I understand if you want to be alone,” she continued softly. “So no pressure. But I was going to ask… if you _don’t_ want to be alone, would you maybe… want to spend the day together? We could just leave our phones at home, meet up somewhere? Go for a hike or something and just… disappear,” she finished wistfully.

“I’ll be honest,” Sébastien replied slowly, “you sound like you’re thinking of murdering me. Which, truth be told, I would not be opposed to at this juncture.”

Nile snickered. “So is that really a yes or what?”

“To the murder-hike? Sure. Name a trail and I’ll meet you there. Right after I throw my cell into the Narrows.”

An hour and a half later, Nile pulled into an empty gravel parking lot to find Sébastien already waiting, leaning against his car. He was wearing jeans and a green plaid flannel and Nile had a hard time deciding if she liked him better like this or in Saturday’s suit. It was a close race.

There was enough of a chill in the air that Nile grabbed her faux leather jacket on the way out of the car. She’d kept it simple too with jeans and a light, red sweater. The trail she’d picked was more of a walk than a hike, and as she locked her car and made her way over, she was grateful not to be wearing clunky footwear. Just simple, lightweight sneakers that came to a stop a few feet from his own.

“Hi.” Nile was smiling too big. She always smiled too big when she was nervous.

“Hey there.”

She watched him as he stepped away from his car, wondering what was going to happen in the next five seconds. They were just inches away now. Would he kiss her hello? Were they _supposed_ to kiss hello, or was it too early for that? Just because they’d spent ten minutes making out on Saturday, did that mean—

“I haven’t been here before,” Sébastien said. “Do you want to lead the way?”

He nodded at the trailhead to their right and Nile blinked, relieved at the excuse, before stepping forward. They walked for a while in silence, just enjoying the busy sounds of the woods around them. Once they were far enough in, the rumble of passing cars disappeared, and it was just the two of them, their footsteps, and the creaks and chirps and rustles of the forest in springtime. Usually the trails were crowded with people on weekends, but on a Monday morning, they had it all to themselves.

After about an hour and a half, they stopped and rested by a creek, watching as it gurgled and tumbled. Neither of them had spoken much beyond banal observations of the foliage ever since they’d started walking, but Nile had a few things needling at her, and she knew it would be best to get them out of the way before school tomorrow. She was crouched over by the creek-bed, trying to gather up the courage to speak when his voice sounded from behind her.

“You want to ruin the moment again, don’t you?”

Nile smiled, turning her head to find him already watching her as he sat on a tree stump nearby. “You read minds now?”

“No, I just know you. You go very still when you’re working up to saying something important. Or so I’ve noticed.” He paused. “What do you want to ask me?”

Nile pushed herself up to her feet and, after a moment’s indecision, took up a spot next to him on the stump. It had been a large tree, and so there was room for both of them, but not enough for them to sit separately. She could feel his thigh pressed against hers, and she thought of the night before. They’d managed to do the important talking before the kissing last night; surely they could replicate that process once more.

“I want to know why you waited so long. Why you never talked to me.”

“I talked to you,” he defended immediately. “We talk all the time—”

“Sébastien.”

He sighed, massaging the back of his neck. “Look, there’s a a simple answer I can give you and there’s a complicated one. They’re both true. I’m not going to lie to you about this. But one of them has a lot more information than you need to know about me right now.” He glanced over. “So if it’s all right with you, I’m going to give you the simple answer. And if you want to know more, we can go there.”

That seemed fair enough. Nile nodded. “Okay.”

“The simple answer is—well, I thought it’d be obvious. You’re young. You’re beautiful. You’re new at your job.”

“I’ve been here for three years,” Nile countered, even as her mind whispered _beautiful, beautiful, beautiful_ on a lovestruck loop. Where were those kids with their cell phones when she needed an audiovisual record of _this_ moment?

“I didn’t want to make work difficult for you by showing you that kind of… interest.”

“You think I’m incapable of fending off unwanted romantic advances? Look, I hate to break it to you, but I do it every day.”

“Yeah, exactly. And as a middle-aged man, I feel like I have a societal responsibility to not be a creep to every pretty young woman I see.”

“And you want brownie points for it, do you?”

“No, I’m just telling you how I’ve been looking at things. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I didn’t know how to say anything about it without making things weird between us at work. And I liked our friendship the way it was. Plus, uh… I kind of always just assumed you were with someone.”

“I was last year.”

“Well, good thing I didn’t try to ask you out last year then.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” she argued quietly. “Would’ve been flattered.”

“And I would have been very, very embarrassed.”

“Oh, come on.” She rolled her eyes. “You can drop the act, you know that, right? I know you’re not _actually_ shy.”

“Oh?” He laughed. “And how do you know that?”

“You were there Saturday.” She could feel her face heating even as she remembered. “The way you kissed me is _not_ the way you kiss someone if you’re terribly shy.”

“Oh, that was different,” he replied. “Physical things are easy. I have no hangups about that. It’s when emotions get involved that things become… difficult for me.”

“Ah.” Nile nodded slowly, doing her best not to linger on whatever _emotions_ he might be referring to. “So I take it I’m supposed to gather from that vague statement that your heart’s had a rough go of it recently? Is that the complicated side of things?”

“Sort of. It isn’t exactly recent, but…” He hesitated. “Look, if you want me to explain, I can.”

“Honestly?” Nile shook her head. “I don’t. We’re having a nice day here. Why ruin it with all your big, dark secrets? They’ll keep for a while yet, right?”

“Yeah.” He was starting to smile again. “They definitely will.”

“Good. Then we can get into all that later. I’ve had enough drama for one day.” Nile stood and held out her hand. “Come on, we’ve still got half of this hike left.”

They set off up the trail, walking a little closer than they had been before. It wasn’t as silent between them now as they made their way through the spring greenery, and Nile found conversation came as easy between them out here alone in the woods as it usually did at school. Some things didn’t change, and she was glad this was one of them.

The next time they stopped for a rest, his hand found hers, and then his lips, and they spent a while reenacting Saturday evening’s activities on a fallen tree beside the trail instead of a bench. Nile was so focused on proving she could do interesting things with her tongue, too, that she didn’t realize they had company until her toes were nearly trod on. She broke away from Sébastien with a start, covering her mouth with both hands as she stared up at their interlopers with wide eyes.

“Don’t mind us,” a man who looked to be in his seventies commented as he limped along with his walking stick. “Just passing through here. Eyes are strictly forward.”

“Carry on, kids,” his wife called as she shuffled past with a smile, waving a wrinkled hand in their direction. “No judgment here; we all get our exercise wherever we can find it.”

Nile could see by the look on Sébastien’s face he was struggling not to laugh. She bit her lip and, dropping her hands, found his again. They watched as the older couple made their slow progression down the trail. Nile waited until they had completely disappeared from view before she spoke.

“I’m going to make an executive decision here and say it’s time to turn back.”

As her side, Sébastien nodded quickly. “Agreed.”

Nile turned and headed back the way they’d come with only a slight disappointment souring her mood. Sébastien had never walked this trail before, and she’d been looking forward to seeing his reaction at the lookout. But when faced with the possibility of having to pass that kindly older couple not once but twice… It was no contest. Neither of them could handle even the briefest of embarrassments today. Nile tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and led the way back down the trail.

They made it about thirty minutes before they were kissing again. Nile had her back against a tree and Sébastien’s hands were on her waist, and it felt so very good, but Nile couldn’t keep her focus. She kept laughing into the kiss, and eventually she had to turn away, covering her mouth with one hand as her shoulder shook.

“What?” he asked, frowning. “What’d I do? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, touching his chest. “You didn’t do anything; you’re fine. I was just thinking…” She snickered, and then mimicked a teenage boy’s low voice: “‘Coach has moves.’”

“Christ.” Sébastien snorted, looking away. “I don’t even know how to _begin_ to apologize for that.”

“Oh, please.” She caught his eye as they fell back into step. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t film us making out and then put it on the internet for the entire world to see. I don’t blame you.”

Though he nodded along, she could tell from the way he kept his eyes on the ground that he didn’t wholly agree. She didn’t mind. Something told her that that video would be following them around for a very long time. They’d talk about it again soon enough.

It only took a few more yards. When she happened to glance his way, she caught him smirking to himself. When she asked why, he just shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on.” She bumped his shoulder lightly with hers. “We’re both thinking about the same thing. What idiotic line of the kids’ commentary is bouncing around in _your_ head?”

He pursed his lips, staring out at the path ahead of them. She sighed theatrically at his hesitation. And then when she was about to change the subject, he spoke, enunciating each word excruciatingly clearly.

“‘Ms. Freeman can fucking get it.’”

He turned to her with a grin and though she tried to keep a straight face, she ended up bursting into laughter.

“I _can_ , you know!” She jabbed at her chest with a finger as they walked. “I _can_ get it!”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

She grinned back, and for once, she didn’t stop to think about how best to mask her joy. She just reached out for his hand and took it, squeezing tight. She watched his face as he looked down at their clasped hands, feeling a flush of happiness when she saw his lips twitch into a smile. They walked the rest of the way back like that, taking turns listening to the forest and adding their voices to it.

“Hey, look at us,” he said as they neared the trailhead. “Didn’t even take twenty-four hours before he managed to laugh about it. That has to be a good sign, right?”

“Depends on how the next twenty-four hours go.” Nile rolled her neck and just barely resisted the urge to scream at the sky. “Tomorrow’s going to be a nightmare.”

“We could always quit,” Sébastien suggested, sounding hopeful. “Really disappear this time, not just for a day.”

“Ha. _You_ could, maybe. I kind of rely on my paychecks to live.”

“Fair point.”

They’d reached the start of the trail, and the gravel parking lot was just mere feet away. Nile was still holding onto his hand and trying very hard to think of a reason not to let go. There was no one around as they came to a stop at the edge of the tree line and though Sébastien was standing right next to her, no amount of glances his way told her what he was thinking as he stared out at the road.

“Today was really nice,” Nile said finally, her soft voice just barely louder than the sounds of the forest behind them. “I liked it out there in the trees. Felt safe there with you.”

“We can go back next weekend,” he offered. “Maybe even reach the lookout, if a couple of septuagenarians don’t beat us to it.”

Nile smiled. “I’d really like that.”

There was a softness in his face when he looked over in her direction. As unknowable as he could be at times, certain things were always easy to read on his face. Without having realized, Nile had already risen on her toes, so when Sébastien stepped closer, he hardly had to duck down to kiss her. His mouth was warm against hers, but calmer than Saturday night—or earlier this afternoon on the trail. There was no sneak of his tongue, no surge of desire in her gut, but there was a nice, easy rhythm to the way their lips moved together.

It had been just a few days, but it felt like they’d been practicing this for months.

“Well…” He sighed softly, brushing his thumb against the back of her hand as he pulled away. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She nodded, feeling that dread sneak back in to dampen the warmth within. “Big day.”

“Big day,” he echoed.

They parted and headed towards their separate cars. He had just opened his door when she called out.

“Hey, do me a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“If you find yourself looking at flights home at 3 AM again, just call me.”

“Why, so you can talk me out of it?”

“No, so you can buy me a seat next to yours. I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

He smiled, promising to do so, and then ducked into the driver’s seat. She let him drive off before she got into her own car and started the long way home.

Her phone was even worse after a day away. She didn’t bother with her overflowing voice mailbox. She’d tackle them when she felt a little stronger. First she went into her email and dragged messages from any senders she didn’t recognize straight into the trash. She read all the texts on her cell, but saved replying for another day. She knew if she started, she’d never be able to stop. She’d never been very good at leaving tasks unfinished.

In the end, the only person Nile talked to was her mother. Because her mother deserved an explanation and because, if she was being honest, her mother was the only person she _wanted_ to talk to. Nile didn’t think her mother would understand—certainly no more than any of her friends would—but she should at least be told the facts so she didn’t have to rely on hysterical teenagers.

“You took your time,” her mother said when she answered the call.

“Yeah.” Nile ducked her chin to her chest, suddenly feeling sixteen again, getting caught coming home after curfew. She could’ve called earlier, but it had taken her all day and half the evening to work up the courage. “Sorry. It’s been… a heck of a day.”

“Mm.”

Nile couldn’t quite tell if the hum was understanding or skepticism. She was too scared to ask, so she just waited for the judgment.

“You never mentioned anything about a… _friend,_ Nile.”

Nile drew in a deep breath. After so many years, she had an arsenal of comebacks and explanations, but the usual _Mama, he’s just a boy_ brush-off didn’t work here _._ She had no idea what Sébastien was yet, but he certainly wasn’t a boy.

“We work together,” she said, in case that part still needed to be explained. She could only imagine what people were saying about them on the internet. She hadn’t had the stomach to look yet. “He teaches English. We were chaperoning prom on Saturday.”

_Didn’t look like you were doing much chaperoning._

Though she hadn’t spoken, Nile could hear the response in her mother’s voice, bouncing around her mind. Her inner disciplinarian always sounded like her mother.

“I didn’t know the kids were filming us,” Nile continued, feeling that usual urge to fill her mother’s silences. “If I’d known, I obviously wouldn’t have acted like…”

 _Acted like what?_ her rational mind screamed. _You didn’t do anything wrong_.

But that church upbringing died hard and slow, and though she couldn’t bring herself to regret anything she and Sébastien had actually done on Saturday, she did regret that her mother had seen it. They didn’t talk about these sorts of things anymore, hadn’t since Nile was a teenager, but she knew her mother prized things like modesty and chastity much more than most people. It was one thing for Nile to have a sex life; it was another thing for hints of it to be out there for everyone to see. And to comment on.

Oh, God, she really hoped her mother hadn’t looked at any of the comments. The kids’ narration had been bad enough.

“Have you two been together long?”

“No,” Nile answered, shaking her head. “That night was the first time anything ever happened between us. I found out a few weeks ago that he had this crush on me… I thought it was a joke at first, but it wasn’t, and, well… I guess everyone saw the aftermath of how I felt about it.”

Nile chewed on the inside of her cheek as she waited for her mother to respond. If she were braver, Nile would’ve gotten right to the point herself: _Are you disappointed that he’s older, or that he’s white, or that he put his hand on my ass in front of the whole world?_ As the silence dragged on, Nile tried to find some of that courage she’d depended on with Sébastien on Saturday night. But it all crumbled when faced with her mother.

In the end, she could only whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

“Honey.” She listened to her mother sigh on the other end of the line. “You’re an adult. I am not _mad_ at you. I’m just not sure how to react to all this. You’ve never said a word about this man, and then I wake up one day and all I see is this video of you with him. It’s everywhere.”

“Are people talking to you about it?”

“Are they talking to me?” Her mother laughed. “Everyone at work is saying you’re famous. All the ladies at church want to know his name, and where he’s from, and who his people are. And your brother called, _twice—_ middle of his shift and everything, since you weren’t answering.”

Nile rolled her eyes. Of course her brother would factor into this. The golden child always found the light. “He’s not in a war zone, Ma. He’s an hour outside Frankfurt. It isn’t hard for him to make a couple calls.”

“Still.” Nile could picture her mother pursing her lips, the way she always did when Nile so much as insinuated that serving in the military was anything less than the highest calling. “Apparently the men in his unit had _quite_ a bit to say about you.”

“Yeah, I bet they did,” Nile muttered. Those jarhead friends of his were always trying to get into her pants whenever they landed stateside. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’d been playing that video on loop at the base for the last forty-eight hours. God, she was glad she’d called her mother instead of her brother.

“So, are you going to tell me what all this is about? You haven’t said one word about him except that he’s a teacher. You trying to keep him a secret or what?”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, obviously. And I told you some things,” she added defensively, though in truth, she kind of liked being pressed for details. Her mother felt like the only person in the world she could count on not to spray them all over the internet.

So she started at the beginning. She told her mother about how they’d met three years ago, and slowly became friendly at work. She told her about assuming he was involved with someone else, and never really picturing the two of them together until she overheard those girls gossiping. She told her mother about all the awkwardness and anxiety that had consumed her for weeks afterward. They glossed quickly over prom night—thank God her mother didn’t want to linger over that—and Nile told her about the hike they’d taken earlier in the day.

“He’s a good guy,” she finished. “He’s a good guy and I really like him.”

“Well, for the sake of all those cheering teenagers, I sure hope you do. Wouldn’t want to break their hearts. I think they’re expecting a wedding soon.”

Nile groaned, putting a hand over her eyes. “Don’t start.”

Her mother laughed, and then teased, “So are you looking forward to work tomorrow?”

“I’m looking forward to tonight. I hope I fall into a coma while I’m sleeping and am gone for months.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

Nile laughed hollowly. “A little too late for that.”

“You’ll be fine, honey. Just take it one hour at a time.”

Nile nodded, beating back all the sharp replies threatening to surface. She knew her mother was just trying to be nice, and supportive, and she should be grateful. But tomorrow was going to be hell, and it was difficult to paste on a smile about it. She said goodbye as quickly as she could, and then started getting ready for bed.

Her phone buzzed intermittently with a few texts, but she swiped them all aside. As she brushed her teeth, she thought about Sébastien and those sisters of his. She wondered if he’d finally stopped to give them the time of day. If he had, what had he said about her? She wondered how that worked, with so many siblings. Did he talk to each of them individually, or all at once? The thought of him having to field questions from three sisters at once made her laugh for some reason. She could see him, head in hands, as they all shouted at him in French from across a computer screen. How long would be able to stomach it? Five minutes? Ten?

Nile climbed into bed, making sure her alarm was set for tomorrow before closing her eyes and… laying there.

For hours she lay there, at times begging out loud for sleep to take over. It was hopeless.

She tried never to look at her phone during these rare bouts of insomnia, but she had no discipline tonight. She checked her phone at midnight, and at twelve-ten, and twelve-fifteen… There was nothing on there she wanted to look at, and even the numbers on the clock were infuriating her.

A little after one AM, she gave up and reached again for her cell. _Window or aisle?_ she typed out.

The reply was immediate; it flashed on the screen before she’d even set her phone aside.

 _Window, obviously._ And then, before she could answer, he added: _Don’t tell me I’m going to have to fight you for it._

Nile smiled at the screen. _Why? Are you afraid you’ll lose?_

 _No, I know I’ll win._ She watched as the screen flickered while he typed, deleted, and then retyped an answer. A moment later the follow-up appeared: _I’m craftier than I look._

That made her laugh, and she told him so, and for a little while, they kept each other company via text. But eventually they decided they both had to at least _try_ to get to sleep, and they said their goodnights.

Nile didn’t end up sleeping well, and she woke up far too early. She tried to lose herself first in a shower, then in tidying up her apartment, but nothing could distract her from the day ahead. She had never dreaded a day of work more, not even her first on the job. Eventually, she had to admit that there was nothing to do about the fear except go in and face it. _Treat the day like any other,_ she coached herself, though she knew she’d never be able to follow that advice.

She arrived at school an hour earlier than usual, avoiding the front office and the teacher’s lounge as she made a beeline towards her lonely little New Wing on the far side of the school. None of the other teachers had arrived yet. The school was completely silent, and she stood in her classroom and relished the quiet. She knew come first bell, quiet would be hard to come by.

Sébastien le Livre  
Tuesday, 8:37 AM

_Seth Jansen just tried to high-five me in homeroom because he thinks you and I had sex over the weekend._

Nile Freeman  
8:40 AM

_Did you high-five back?_

_No, I gave him detention. Why would I high-five back?_

_Now no one’s going to think I can get it._

_Stop making me laugh. Everyone’s staring at me and whispering._

Texting Sébastien in the quick moments between classes was just about the only thing that got Nile through the day. For the most part, she stuck to her classroom because whenever she went out into the halls, every single pair of eyes in the vicinity were locked on her. It made going to the bathroom between classes feel like a suicide mission.

Clearly Hannah had spoken to the student body, because no one outright mocked her to her face, but the veneer of politeness somehow made it all the worse. Girls passed her in packs, giggling and calling out _Hi, Ms. Freeman_ in a sing-song voice that made her feel thirteen and horribly out of touch again. She _wished_ she was out of touch. What she wouldn’t do to be blind to all the suggestions hidden behind all their cutesy little greetings.

_Did you have fun at prom, Ms. Freeman?_

_Do anything_ exciting _this weekend, Ms. Freeman?_

_Are you feeling better today, Ms. Freeman?_

By lunch, she was quietly congratulating herself for not having smacked anyone in her first four classes of the day. She was very thankful she hadn’t forgotten her lunch on the kitchen counter this morning, because if she had to walk into the cafeteria she might’ve had a heart attack.

Instead, she made her way nervously to the teachers’ lounge. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she and Sébastien had the same lunch period. She hadn’t seen him all day, and she was both looking forward to spending forty-some minutes with him and dreading what their colleagues might say if they were there too. She’d successfully avoided most of them so far today by hiding out in her classroom, but those sorts of childish tactics couldn’t last forever.

He was already there, reading a book when she came in. For as long as she could remember, he always spent his lunch period reading. Even when the room was packed and people were shouting, he was always there, bent over a book. But when he saw her, he reached for his bookmark and moved to close it.

“Oh, stop,” she smiled, taking the seat opposite him. “You don’t need to entertain me. It’s just lunch. You can read.”

“What if I like entertaining you?”

Nile felt her stomach twist in that annoyingly pleasurable way he seemed uniquely qualified to elicit. She was grateful that they were the only two in the lounge for the moment.

“I would say that I’d prefer to be entertained on an actual _date_ , rather than a work lunch.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak the door opened and in stepped Madame Mallin, balancing a lunch tray in one hand, an armful of essays in another, and tapping quickly on her cell phone as she swept into the room.

“Bonjour,” she called happily in that melodious tone of hers, all long vowels and soft consonants.

As she and Sébastien replied in kind, Nile felt a little coil of nerves burn hot in her gut. Less than seventy-two hours ago, she’d been convinced that Madame Mallin had been carrying on some kind of secret affair with Sébastien. She’d never spoken to either of them about it, but it was still awkward to be in the same room as them as if she hadn’t been speculating after their nonexistent love life for the last three years.

Nile told herself to focus on her lunch, but as Madame Mallin took a seat at the head of the table and deposited her things, Nile couldn’t help but watch her out of the corner of her eye. She was very pretty, with long auburn hair framing a clear, pale face. She murmured under her breath in French as she fiddled with her cell, and Nile instinctively glanced towards Sébastien, wondering if he was listening to what she was saying.

Nile thought back on all the times she’d sat at this very table and let their French wash over her, unable to translate more than a word or two. Had they ever talked about her? The thought made Nile’s half-full stomach twist. Maybe Madame Mallin and Sébastien had never dated, but they were close in age, and they spoke the same language, and they’d always seemed so friendly… Was it possible that Sébastien had told her how he’d felt, maybe gone to her for advice?

How had she never thought of this before?

Nile stared dumbly, unable to look away as Madame Mallin rose to her feet and walked over to the fridge. She rummaged around for a moment before heading back to her seat with a bottle of iced tea. As she passed behind Sébastien’s back, she looked over and caught Nile’s eye. There was only a split-second for Nile to feel embarrassed, because as soon as their eyes met, Madame Mallin flashed her a thumbs up and pointed at Sébastien’s back, mouthing _Nice!_ and winking so hugely that Nile couldn’t help but laugh. When Sébastien glanced up from his book, a questioning look on his face, she just shook her head. She could tell him later. Or maybe she’d just keep it to herself.

As a few other teachers started to filter in, Nile was grateful Madame Mallin had already taken up a spot near them. Every new arrival stared, taking their time looking over her and Sébastien, but at least no one made comments aloud like the students did. Nile was braced for it, though, and she knew Sébastien was too. She could tell from the irregular way he was turning pages that he wasn’t actually reading, but she didn’t call him out on it. She kept her eyes on her phone and pretended to be checking the news until it felt appropriate to leave.

The second half of the day passed just as slowly and just as Nile expected it would. It seemed the students in her afternoon classes either hadn’t talked to those in her morning classes, or they didn’t like what little they’d heard. The hints kids dropped became less vague and more pointed, but Nile was getting better at just ignoring them in favor of running class as if nothing had changed since last Friday. It felt like an exercise in insanity, but at least it gave her a concretebattle plan.

Eventually the final bell rang, and as the hallways filled with the sounds of students slamming lockers and heading for the buses, Nile dropped into her chair, exhausted and relieved. She wished she could run out to her car and drive straight home, but the pick-up traffic made it impossible. So instead she laid her head on the desk, took a series of calming breaths, and did the metal math to determine how many days were left in the year.

Too many.

She lifted her head sometime later, only because there was a knock at her door. She rose from her chair, immediately on edge, unsure who she dreaded most to see on the other side—a student? Or her boss? She hadn’t seen Hannah all day, but she wouldn’t be surprised if the woman had waited until the last possible moment to check in.

As it turned out, her visitor was neither. Sébastien was standing there, looking far too handsome after such a stressful day.

“Hi.”

She smiled, and automatically stepped back so he could come inside. “Hi.”

“So…” He stepped slowly around the room as she closed the door, eventually posting up against one of the group tables. “Are you avoiding everyone, or just avoiding me?”

“Not just you,” Nile assured him. She followed in his footsteps and leaned against the table opposite. Neither of them spoke for a minute until finally she said, “I feel like I’m pulling a pin out of a grenade by asking this, but… How was your day?”

“Shit,” he answered. “Yours?”

Nile thought about the question. In all honesty, the day had not been as terrible as she’d dreaded. It _had_ been bad—kids truly did not know how to keep their mouths shut or how their words would live on in people’s minds. But it hadn’t been the nightmare gamut of constant humiliation she’d been expecting. Too many knowing stares, too many loud whispers, _way_ too much giggling.

“It was bearable,” she said finally. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking to the floor beneath their feet as she remembered what he’d told her yesterday: _They’re at least complimentary about you._ She thought of his text this morning. Her students might have mocked her, but at least they’d had the decency to keep it to a whisper.

“Sorry,” she told him. “Sounds like you had a worse go of it than me today.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad the season’s over so I don’t have to put up with practice on top of today.”

Nile hadn’t even thought of that. She remembered how some of the boys on the video had talked about him, and she was suddenly itching to ask what had happened there. No doubt he had recognized their voices immediately. Had he spoken with them? Had they apologized? Sébastien didn’t say anything else about the team, and she knew better than to press the point at this particular moment.

Instead, she looked over his shoulder and out the bank of windows on the far side of the classroom. She had a view of one of the back fields, which was usually utilized by outdoor gym classes doing everything from golf to badminton. Sometimes the lacrosse teams practiced back there, if their usual field was too torn up. But today, there wasn’t a single student to be seen.

“Is our fan club out there?”

Sébastien’s voice was a whisper as he leaned forward across the empty space between them, and Nile smiled as she shook her head. “All clear. For once.”

“Good. Because I did actually come by to ask you something.”

“Oh yeah?” Nile could guess what was coming as she watched him push off from the desk and step closer, but it was fun to play dumb anyway. “And what would that be?”

“Well, if you aren’t too traumatized by the fact that kissing me has upended both your personal and professional lives… I’d really like to make you dinner sometime.”

Nile’s eyebrows rose. _“Make_ me dinner? Really?”

“Too much?” He smiled sheepishly. “I usually wouldn’t suggest it for a first date, but I can’t shake the feeling that a crowd of teenagers will show up at whatever restaurant we go to, so…”

“That’s a very good point,” Nile agreed. For a moment she got lost, wondering how long they’d have to suffer through this sort of attention. But then she remembered Sébastien was standing there beside her, still waiting for an answer. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly. “I’d love for you to make me dinner.”

“Does Friday work?”

“Friday works.” Nile didn’t stop to think, or to look at her calendar. It didn’t matter if she’d already made plans; she’d cancel them in favor of this.

“And one more thing…”

She could tell by the change in his voice what he was going to say, and she smiled, pivoting in his direction. She had one hand on the side of the desk and she could feel his fingertips there too, just barely brushing against hers.

“No cameras here. No one watching, so far as I know.” He moved closer. “Can I kiss you again?”

“I’d really like that.”

Despite not having seen anyone lingering outside, Nile still tensed when his mouth met hers, anxiously awaiting the sounds of kids’ wolf-whistles and cameras snapping. But there was nothing. The breeze picked up a little outside, and through the half-open windows, she could hear the sound of leaves flapping on their branches. A few cars were passing by with a low hush. Someone somewhere in the building was slamming a door shut.

But no one was paying any attention to them.

So when Sébastien pulled back, and smiled in a manner that Nile knew presaged goodbye, she reached up and pulled him close once more. It was a nice, warm Tuesday afternoon in May and she was with someone she cared about. Together, they were finding a way past the worst memories of the last twenty-four hours. There was no reason to stop so soon.

**Author's Note:**

> The best part of writing this fic was imagining Book’s big heart eyes during _allllll_ of his interactions with Nile. ;)
> 
> If you made it this far, thank you SO much for reading! I loved writing this AU so very much, but it also took a _ton_ more work than I originally expected. Some scenes came easy and some I really struggled with while trying to do this whole concept justice. I’m super interested to hear how the final product went over, so if you have thoughts, make my day and please leave a comment below! <3


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